


Healing Hands

by j2mslittlebitch



Series: Eternal Sterek [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Injured Derek Hale, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:22:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29463459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j2mslittlebitch/pseuds/j2mslittlebitch
Summary: “I’ll be fine here, Jackson, go and help the others. They are having trouble,” Stiles looked over his shoulder at the blue eyed beta. He wasn’t moving, just staring back with wide eyes. “I know you don’t want to leave me but I’ll befine. They need you more.Go!”
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Eternal Sterek [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164122
Comments: 2
Kudos: 149





	Healing Hands

  
Of course it was raining.  
  
Derek’s skin was wet with blood and rain, his hands were shaking as he tried to open the Camaro door, his fingertips slid off the handle multiple times before he got a grip on it and yanked it open. The force behind it almost sent him tumbling over backwards, saved onto by his hold on the door. His booted feet slipped in the mud on the ground and he stumbled into the drivers side of his car, it _hurt_ righting himself in the seat. It was _agonizing_ to reach over and pull the door shut.  
  
He lifted his shirt up and inspected the gaping wound in his chest, he could see the flesh trying to knit itself together before tearing apart again. That was new, he’d never seen anything like it before. His head was growing heavy and he let it flop back against the headrest with a grunt. He didn’t know where his keys were, they could have been lost in the mud outside, even if they were in his pockets he didn’t think he’d be able to maneuver himself to get to them.  
  
They had been tracking a goblin, the pack spread out over the Preserve when Derek had stumbled across it. Apparently goblin wounds were poison to werewolves, something he wished he had known _before_ he’d been gutted by one. Now he was going to die in his car, in the middle of the fucking woods without his pack.  
  
He grayed out for a moment yanked back into consciousness when his door was yanked open. “I found him, Stiles.” Jackson was on his phone as he leaned over Derek and tried to examine his wounds. Derek snarled at the pain when he beta lifted his shirt again. He only rolled his eyes as the Alpha’s eyes flashed red. “It looks bad, I think you should get over here.”  
  
Derek reached out a bloody hand and grabbed Jackson’s forearm. “It’s poison, the gob-”  
  
“We know,” Jackson interrupted, “Erica got swiped by it. She’s fine. You’ll be fine, Stiles is on his way.”  
  
Derek wasn’t sure he had time, the pain was still there but he was becoming numb to it and that was never a good sign. He turned his head to see Jackson stepping back away from his door and Stiles jogging towards it, he was dressed in a white v neck and tight jeans, both that were wet, muddy and bloody, his shirt sticking to his tattooed skin. His hair was stuck to his forehead and his eyes wide and worried as he dropped to his knees beside Derek.  
  
“I’ll be fine here, Jackson, go and help the others. They are having trouble,” Stiles looked over his shoulder at the blue eyed beta. He wasn’t moving, just staring back with wide eyes. “I know you don’t want to leave me but I’ll be _fine_. They need you more. _Go_!”  
  
Jackson stood still for another 30 seconds before he nodded curtly and turned to sprint back towards the chaos. Stiles turned back to the Alpha. Derek looked terrible, his skin was pale and clammy, he was weakly reaching up to try and grab at Stiles’ hands as the younger man ripped his shirt straight down the centre. Stiles had been trying to get Derek naked for years now but this isn’t how he expected it. The wound in Derek’s chest was wide and gaping, the skin was trying to knit itself together unsuccessfully.  
  
Stiles lifted his hands and pressed his palms against the minced mess of Derek’s chest, blood seeping through his fingers as he closed his eyes and _focused_ on the Alpha’s wounds. He felt his magic come alive and knew the runes tattooed onto his skin were starting to glow a soft golden colour, he could feel the heat bleeding through him as his palms started to tingle and illuminate as Derek’s muscles and tendons started to knit themselves back together.  
  
Healing was not a simple thing. Stiles had to start from the bottom and work his way through the different layers of muscle, tendons and flesh. It was tedious at the best of times let alone with a wound as expansive as this one.  
  
Stiles could see the lines of Derek’s life force behind his closed eyelids, it was flickering and weak but it was still _there_. His wound was slowly disappearing under Stiles’ palms, the healer's runes glowing brighter and brighter on his skin as he expelled more energy. The little red thread of the Alpha’s life force was getting stronger and brighter. Stiles knew that he could fix the gaping _hole_ in Derek’s chest but he couldn’t fix the blood loss so even when Stiles had closed him up, the werewolf would be weak and shaky for some time after.  
  
When he was sure his healing would hold, Stiles lifted his hands and opened his eyes. Derek’s own eyes were still closed with his resting against the headrest. Stiles had seen his life force but he still pressed two fingers to Derek’s grimy throat out of habit. He breathed a sigh of relief at the thumping pulse under his finger tips.  
  
He lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder when he heard a wild howl. They still hadn’t gotten the thing under control, they couldn’t stay here. Derek was in no position to fight and while Stiles was proficient at keeping himself alive, he wasn’t a fighter. He stood up and roughly shoved Derek as far into the passenger seat as he could before he climbed into the drivers, half on top, half next to the passed out Alpha.  
  
_Shit_ , the keys weren’t in the ignition. He reached over and patted Derek’s pockets down, found his keys in his front pocket and fought the damp denim to get them out. He would never tell Derek but he _loved_ driving the Camaro. He sped out of the preserve, the tyres sliding in the mud before finding traction. The loft was closer so he drove there and parked the car, switching it off.  
  
Derek was still passed out and Stiles grimaced before slapping the Alpha across the face, _hard_. He woke with a grunt, his eyes flicking down to his torn shirt and healed chest then over to Stiles in the driver's seat. The human shrugged sheepishly, “I couldn’t carry you up the stairs.”  
  
The flight of stairs was the trickiest, Derek was still weak and he was a _big_ dude. Sure Stiles wasn’t scrawny but he was leaner than the werewolf and was panting hard by the time they got to the loft door. Derek’s fingers were slippery with blood and rain as he tried to unlock the door before he just gave up and handed Stiles the keys for him to do it.  
  
Stiles deposited the werewolf on the couch, studiously ignoring the needy whine that he made, and headed for the kitchen, switching the coffee pot on. He was cold and wet and he wanted coffee first then maybe three days sleep. He made them both a cup of coffee and carried them out to Derek. He put the werewolf’s on the coffee table in front of him before he took a sip of his own. The coffee burned a hot line down his throat and into his chest and he sighed, his eyes dropping closed for a second.  
  
“I’ve always wondered how far those tattoos went.”  
  
“What?” Stiles’ head jerked up and he almost dropped his coffee into his lap.  
  
“Those tattoos,” Derek motioned weakly as he reached out to grasp his own coffee. “I’ve always wondered how much of your skin was covered.”  
  
Stiles suddenly became self-conscious, he glanced down at himself and took note of his white v neck clinging to his skin, barely hiding anything. The rain had made it all but see through, his runes standing out starkly against his pale skin.  
  
Stiles blushed brightly, “Ah, nearly all of it. I’m gonna get into some dry clothes.”  
  
Derek’s free hand shot out and grabbed his arm, “Don’t leave me.”  
  
Stiles hesitated, he knew when he healed someone, his power left a relaxant effect, made people feel like they were high. Derek was no exception, his normal inhibitions were thrown out the window. Stiles couldn’t and wouldn’t take advantage of him in this condition, whether or not he left this way about Stiles normally, there was something holding him back and Stiles couldn’t do that to him, not after Kate.  
  
“Derek, I’m not going anywhere. I _promise_.” Stiles sat his coffee on the table between them and dropped a hand on the werewolf’s shoulder. “I am human though, so if I stay in these wet clothes, I’ll get sick.”  
  
Derek nodded, accepting Stiles’ explanation and he rushed up the stairs. He rummaged around Derek’s drawers and found a pair of sweats and tee shirt for himself and the werewolf. He quickly undressed and pulled the borrowed clothes on before he ran back down the stairs. He had to help Derek change, the werewolf still shaky on his feet. Once he was dressed, Stiles helped him sit back on the couch before he dropped down on the other side against the arm rest.  
  
Stiles didn’t say anything when Derek all but crawled into his lap and curled up there. He couldn’t help the raise in his heartbeat at the easy contact but he did nothing other than drop a hand on the werewolf’s shoulder. Derek dozed off first, exhausted from the fight, the injury and the healing. Stiles listened to him breath softly for a little while before his own eye lids dropped closed.  


~ ~ ~ 

Derek jerked awake at the sound of his door slamming open. He was curled up around Stiles who was still sleeping soundly, drooling on Derek’s tee shirt. He instinctively pulled the sleeping human closer as he beta shifted and snarled over his shoulder at the intruder.  
  
“Whoa, whoa.” Jackson held his hands up. “I just came by the check on you and let you know we killed the goblin.” When Derek didn’t stop snarling, Jackson nodded and backed towards the door. “I’ll take that as a hint, just get Stilinski to call me when he wakes up.”  
  
Derek tucked himself down next to Stiles as Jackson pulled the door shut behind him. He was dozed on and off for an hour or so before Stiles startled awake. The younger man grunted and jerked out of Derek’s embrace. “I’m sorry. I-I’m sorry.”  
  
Derek leaned back to get a good look at Stiles and frowned deeply, “Why?”  
  
“Why what?” Stiles asked, finally looking into his eyes.  
  
“Why are you sorry?” Derek moved back even further and pushed himself into a seated position.  
  
“My healing leave you feeling high, you were basically inebriated last night and I took advantage of you.” Stiles stood up and started pacing. He was panicking, Derek could hear his heartbeat speed up and his scent sour with the smell of it.  
  
“Stiles,” Derek gripped the younger man’s elbows to stop the panicked pacing, “you did _not_ take advantage of me. Even if I was three sheets to the wind, you wouldn’t be taking advantage of me because I want you too.”  
  
Stiles froze, “You…what?”  
  
Derek smiled softly before he leaned down, only slightly because Stiles was only an inch shorter than him, and gently slotted their lips together. The kiss started out as soft until Stiles opened his mouth under Derek’s and suddenly his tongue was in his mouth, then it was all tongue and teeth and Stiles _moaned_ into Derek’s mouth. They separated for Derek to drag his teeth down the other man’s jaw and down his throat. He buried his nose in the join of Stiles neck and shoulder, breathing deeply.  
  
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Stiles asked breathlessly, bringing his hands up to bury them in Derek’s hair.  
  
Derek snorted and pulled back, he didn’t step out of Stiles’ space. “I haven’t had the best luck with relationships. I guess I was scared.”  
  
Stiles grinned a little, digging his fingertips into Derek’s scalp. “Dude, have you seen yourself, have you met yourself. I would be stupid to say no.”  
  
“I’m an asshole.” Derek dead panned, a rumble in his chest at Stiles’ fingers massaging his head.  
  
“Yeah but you’re _my_ asshole.” Stiles leaned forwards and pressed his lips to the werewolf’s again.  
  
“Yeah.” Derek murmured into the kiss. “Yeah I am.”


End file.
